


Dreams, Orbs, and Originality

by AquaholicParellelogram



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-03 17:26:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13345998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquaholicParellelogram/pseuds/AquaholicParellelogram
Summary: Listen this is my first work and I based it off a dream so it's not gonna be goodI apologise in advance.Oh, and hooray for a lack of motivation that tells me this is either going nowhere or will be updated slowly.I'll update as I go.





	1. Exposition

**Author's Note:**

> This is the only chapter ya gotta read if I send it to you- this is just my little exposition dump.

The year is-  
Wait.  
No, this isn't one of those stories.  
We ARE going to have a world exposition, though.  
So, I believe this reality is similar to the one of the reader. You. We have society and such, but here's the catch.  
Every human on this planet is obsessed with a legend. No human can deny the lure of power, after all. Isn't that what any society runs on, in the end?  
This legend? Worbs.  
...Let me explain.  
Apparently, a while ago, as in centuries ago, the power of society ran on these weird orbs... Worbs. Huh.  
In their defence, it was, like, thousands of years ago. Ideas weren't exactly the best back then. But back to our story. You can't rule over a big number of a species without some kind of power, right? That's where our Worbs come in. According to records that were dug up, they granted some kinds of magic powers. As soon as this got out, people started to dedicate their lives to finding these. If you had any amount of free time, and any human urge for power, you were looking into it. Only those with the willpower to focus on their actual lives actually did so.  
It's not quite an apocalypse, but people shared notes or hid their work from others, almost valuing the work as much as one would value money.  
Why are they not in use, or locked away from the public, you may ask.  
Well, they ARE locked away from the public.  
They have been that way for centuries.  
The downfall of this society, according to the records, was that the powers of the Worbs was not used the way the rulers had promised to use them. Instead of using these powers to keep the peace, one of the rulers went crazy, causing chaos, destruction, death- all of that bad stuff. This ruler had to be killed by the others. But the damage was done. Once the rulers saw how dangerous it was to give these powers to people, they hid them, and did their best to keep the existence of them hidden ever since.  
Probably should have burned the records.  
So now, you're thinking, where is this going?  
Well, you're going to see a story of a group of friends, looking for them just like everybody else, because none of us have lives, obviously.  
Just kidding, we were forced into it.


	2. Story? Possibly.

Thompson's Chompins. It's not the best name for a restaurant, but hey, it's original. And by "original", I mean we're taking our first character's last name, slapping it on a brand, and calling it a day. Who wouldn't want their name on a restaurant, after all?  
  
...what? Oh, yeah, his cousin's place. Whatever. His cousin is never around. Our character is Uriah. This is Uriah's place.

So, the work thing happens.

...what?

...fine.

The  _clock_  is punched in by our buddy Uriah.

As he started to set up the place to open, this loser named Jesse walked in.

...Shut up, I'm the one-

The pale white Jesse with the worst shoulder-length bedhead black hair you've ever seen proceeded to make her way to the cash register, as per usual, secretly having had worked at the restaurant without knowing how to cook. She is  _not_ a loser.

...Fine, whatever.

_Sup, losers,_ is what she would have said if she had an ounce of confidence. But, as you know, she just did the work- _she punched in the clock._  

"Hey, Jess," is what she is greeted with.

"Heyo. Anything new, or just the usual day?" Jesse asks.

"Yeah, I think we're working late today. Somehow, all the night shift guys are sick." Uriah responds.


End file.
